


Concluded

by Hotalando



Series: Core [7]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Love Confessions, Music, Nonverbal Communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotalando/pseuds/Hotalando
Summary: To settle it, he composed his feelings to let the sound reach her.





	Concluded

Acting on impulse was one of his traits. Simple as that. If the situation called for it, he would do what his guts told him to; if the heat of the moment allowed it he would do a quick analysis of the intended action. Usually, that wasn’t necessary, he wouldn’t call himself wise but he was experienced, having lived through various kinds of life periods, handling them either successfully or learning from the failure. Overall, he could trust his guts if the action requested it. 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t use his brains. If time was flexible, he could come up with the best solutions to the most complex problems. His skills were better than just great and his thirst for more knowledge on his profession was nearly endless. 

And if times needed a more creative, alternative solution to their incomplete queries, then he would figure it out. 

Sometimes, the border between impulse-acting and thinking-it-through was thinner than a sheet of paper.

Simple as that, he was sitting on deck with the guitar he hadn’t used personally in months, struggling a little with the adjustments of their professional musician on its strings. During the two years apart from his crewmates, he had been playing and composing from time to time. Not for any higher plans, just to keep his mind occupied in another way than the tinkering and crafting could. Ever so often he would catch himself tickling a melody out of the instrument that created a new sensation within him. New, as in not having felt it in oh so long, new, as in not having felt in this precise intensity. 

The melody; it had made him feel somehow homesick, melancholic and in the same extent, happy. And then, the more it had gradually stretched into a full song, the less he had been able to grab words for it to go along. The more its origin had seemed to lie deeper inside him than he had thought. 

Now, taken him two years and about four months, he had woken up in the middle of the night with the words swirling in his head. The path to the decision of what to do with them being a short one, he had strolled out into the empty womb of the ship to practice their tones. 

And while he hadn’t gotten to the depths of it, not entirely though, his intentions of what to do with the song were as clear as the waters they were traveling through. 

On deck, shamelessly exposed to anyone onboard, he spilled his soul out like the passionate man he was, carrying a part of his heart on his sleeve. It didn’t matter because what mattered wasn’t who the witnesses were but the person he wanted to lure out with it. And hell, he was confident about it, his own emotions and their reciprocation, that there was no space for pessimistic thinking. 

Once the center of his attraction was within earshot, his song rolled onto the important parts.

“...oooh, the smell of your presence… excites me to the cooore…. it’s the only evidence I need, for us to be mooore,” he sang in his rough and deep voice, highlighting in vibration at the pronounced ends. The realisation that he hadn’t been singing in far longer than playing an instrument came to him too late but he couldn’t change that now. Not that it mattered, anyway.

Everyone refrained from reacting to his musical performance, allowing the sender to reach the recipient without disturbances. But wasn’t it some kind of image, him thrumming the strings to express his simple emotions towards the most complicated woman he had ever met. They were as different as they were connected, by experiences and a patch of common ground. Their interests weren’t at all the same or similar, but the dedication and passion behind it, the mind to accomplish them, was the same kind. No one could deny their mutual understanding of each other, either of the small things or as right now, the exchange of this situation’s meaning.

And so his song remained wordless, only speaking through the notes of the melody he had created—for her. There was this soundless, impressive look on her face, directed towards him and leaving imprints on his mind. It was conclusion.


End file.
